See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. There must be ways of getting rid of him. . “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. " "That's but a short distance from here, sir.
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